


lightning on an island in the sea

by strengthof100



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Gen, M/M, coping with your child soldier trauma: an excerpt, killua-centric, let them go bake zucchini bread or something, nice things for the kids!! they love each other and need a break, not canon compliant bc i think togashi was wrong, sorry there's unnecessarily flowery langauge this also bc it's a full year old, sorry this is in lapslock it's like a full year old
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 18:22:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28586412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strengthof100/pseuds/strengthof100
Summary: Gon, Killua, Alluka, and finally getting a damn break.
Relationships: Alluka Zoldyck & Killua Zoldyck, Gon Freecs & Killua Zoldyck, Gon Freecs/Killua Zoldyck
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	lightning on an island in the sea

**Author's Note:**

> another old, old wip!! like last december i wanted to write something about the kids getting a break for once and it's like, set vaguely after chimera ant but idc enough about canon to do more than that. anyway can you tell i still care very much about hxh

there is a boy, sitting and thinking. it's the water and the lightning and the humidity of it all. the wet/dry the way it stains his clothes and covers his body the blue blue blue of the damp sky and it's all coming together. it pierces his back, strong but not sharp but not dull either; it sits on his tongue. this is the taste of a storm, the psyche, the self.

he laughs a little. a baby storm, thunderheads compressed into a body, limitless in its interior, its own depth, but constrained by external dimensions. the clouds could keep traveling deeper and deeper inside him and wrap around his soul and beating heart and sink into nothingness, thrashing like a snake picked up behind the head, and collapse his body around the point that they swallow themselves whole. or they could press against the walls of his body and beat against his skin and try to get out and scream, scream scream! louder than ever before or ever again. but this makes him dangerous and it's his job to strike the balance and it's so, so hard. he's made to be a weapon to let the lightning beat his bones like a drum to kill kill kill but he can't. he can't for that boy's sake.

and so he thinks of green hair and brown skin and eyes like syrupy liquid gold, he thinks of laughing, he thinks of thunder and sunlight and trees. something that feels like water, thick-not-sticky and dripping slow. his laugh and his teeth are blue and white respectively, like the colors of love. something like a bell, bright and clear and maybe cold or maybe warm, it depends. but this boy in particular is always, always warm. 75° and a breeze, salty wind watering an island with its peaceful, happy tears. the sky's own manna its milk and honey blessing an island, blessing the people who live on the island, blessing a boy of the people who live on the island, a boy he loves so hard his ears ring. who loves him back, immensely.

they are in love, after all. after everything they've been through and know about each other, they should be expected to love each other in at least one sort of way. but he and the boy are more than joined at the hip: they are tied at the center of the soul, where the sun and stars converge and light people's insides. he loves that boy so hard his back breaks, his bones crack, his heart reshapes itself to make a little hole in his chest where the sound of the boy's laughter echoes on itself a hundredfold. he cries and cries and brings the boy flowers from the big field on the middle of the island where the birch trees grow strong and tall, and the berries are honest and do not lure children to an early grave, and he grows fruit trees out back of the house they live in together. and he does not kill. he has had enough killing for a lifetime. and so has the boy. they have seen enough death for many men. and yet here they are, ageless and fifteen and living on an island.

his sisters live with them, as well. they're younger and sweeter than either of them, both of them. they're pink and smiles and a white face, stilted words, a heart full of love. they love their brother and he loves them so much it hurts but in a different way than the boy, not back breaking and bone shattering. it's more like a slow bleed from the heart leaking gold everywhere, on the counter, on the floor. they can grant wishes and when he was younger he used to ask for things, sometimes, but now he is older and wiser and sees that things you want done are best done yourself. so he simply loves her and her and they both love him back.

he thinks again of the lightning and how years and lifetimes and full moons ago he was at home, with his parents who wouldn't love him right and his siblings who didn't care enough to help him and his sisters escape. he is angry at first, cursing their names daily like a supplicant begging their god of choice, but they are healthy and strong and won't die through prayer alone, so he simply does not think of them any more.

the sunset is turning the light gold and they're listening to some song on the radio and it fits perfectly, and the light hits everyone's faces in this particular way, eyes shining, skin beaming, and they laugh and laugh. and the boy's mother/aunt/cousin calls out to them where they're sitting on a hill above the coast listening to the ocean, and they run down to her and smile and laugh and give her hugs, and they all go to dinner. and they eat it so fast they still have time to watch the rest of the sunset, and as it disappears over the water in the western sky he thinks,

i love them. i love them. i love them.


End file.
